Life in the 7th Heaven
by JenovatheCalamity
Summary: Tifa's 7th Heaven is becoming desperately overcrowded! Can the bar's many mismatched inhabitants ever make it as a family?
1. Life in the 7th Heaven

_It's simple, _Denzel thought to himself. _There are just too many people in this house. _Having just been forced to wait outside the Seventh Heaven's only bathroom for more than an hour, as he had had to do every morning so far this week, Denzel had arrived at that conclusion. It had been fine when it was just him, Marlene, Tifa and Cloud. But now it seemed like half the city was moving in with them!

The first new arrivals had joined them just a couple of months after the Geostigma virus had finally been eradicated. Cloud had been making a delivery outside of the city when he had seen three unconscious forms at the base of a cliff wall. Cloud had moved closer to investigate (and to help if he could), and found, to his complete shock, that the three were familiar to him…painfully familiar. There was no mistaking their distinctive silver hair or custom black leather clothing—Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz had somehow found their way back to Gaia.

After calling the Seventh Heaven to get help carrying them (and potentially for backup), Cloud had brought them back to the city and to the Seventh Heaven. They had no injuries, so far as anyone could tell, so they had been placed in the bedrooms upstairs. Denzel had stayed with Cloud as he had kept an eye on Kadaj, while Tifa and Barrett guarded the other two. A couple of hours later, Kadaj had regained consciousness. When he saw Cloud sitting at the foot of his bed, he whispered, "B…brother?" Once he had been certain that the figure was indeed his "brother," his expression became one of genuine relief and joy. After a long moment, Kadaj seemed to notice that Cloud had _not _looked happy to see him. The memories of why Cloud's face was filled with suspicion and revulsion came flooding back, and Kadaj's face had fallen into an expression of horror and pain. Denzel saw Cloud tense, preparing for a fight. Instead, much to Cloud and Denzel's surprise, Kadaj had begun to cry.

"I didn't mean for things to turn out this way! I didn't mean it. Brother, I promise! I just wanted mother to love me! I didn't think anyone else could. I'm sorry! I hurt people, brother, people I didn't want to! What do I do?" Cloud had surprised at this, but still suspicious. Eventually, the other two had also regained consciousness, and—while they were calmer that Kadaj—also expressed heartfelt regret about their actions prior to the second fall of Sephiroth (Loz also with many tears).

Later that same day, they had called in Dr. Shalua Rui from the World Regenesis Organization to run some test on them. She determined that the Sephiroth gene was still present in all of them. In Loz and Yazoo, it was dormant, and so no threat. However, in Kadaj—who had been the main conduit for the Sephiroth gene—it was strong, and very active. "So active, in fact, that it seems to have caused a schizophrenia-like disorder," The doctor had explained to them. "Even now, the Sephiroth personality is present in his mind, and he will likely have to struggle to keep it from becoming dominant for the rest of his life. You have to feel sorry for the guy, having a mind like that locked up inside his."

After Tifa had told the three of them about this, Yazoo had turned to Cloud, and asked, "What will you do with us?"

There was a long moment of silence as everyone looked at Cloud. After a minute, Kadaj said, in a quiet and timid voice, "Brother?"

Cloud, though still mistrustful, couldn't bring himself to abandon them on the streets. He had sighed deeply, then said, "You can stay here with us." What else could he say, looking into three sets of wide, anxious, pleading eyes? "That is, if it's ok with you three?" he said, turning to look at Tifa, Marlene and Denzel, all standing in the doorway. All eyes turned on them.

After a moment, Tifa said, "It's all right with me."

"Yeah, me too," Denzel added.

"Sure," said Marlene, nodding.

What else could they say?

"Are you sure?" sniffed Loz, moved to tears by their generosity.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Cloud. "After all, we are…brothers."

So Kadaj, Yazoo and Loz had moved into Tifa's Seventh Heaven. None of them knew exactly how they had returned to Gaia. Had they somehow come back from the life stream or had they escaped death in the first place? No one could say for sure. All they were sure about was that their "mother" did not deserve their devotion, and that they wanted no part of her plans for the planet. It had taken months to convince their new family (especially Cloud) of the truth of this. Eventually, however, they had earned everyone's trust, even Cloud's. Now, not only were they trusted, but they had also found their own places and roles within the family.

And that had been all right. Three more people living in the house had been a tough adjustment, but they had managed. Denzel had moved in with Cloud, and the new members of the family had shared his old room, leaving Tifa and Marlene in the third bedroom. It had worked out pretty well, actually.

_Or, at least it _would_ have worked out pretty well, if it had just stopped there, _Denzel thought to himself. But that hadn't been the case. A few months after they had moved in, Elena, who had been working with the Turks as a bodyguard for Rufus Shinra, had turned up at their door. She had said simply that she couldn't handle the Turk lifestyle anymore. No one had been exactly sure what she had meant by that. Maybe she had uncovered some sort of Shinra plot so heinous that she wanted nothing to do with it. Maybe she was just tired of having to hurt people, or maybe she was tired of the violence in general. Maybe she was tired of getting captured and tortured; that seemed to happen to her more often than was strictly fair. Maybe she was just sick of Reno. Denzel sure would have been.

Whatever the case was, Elena had quit her job working for Rufus. She now had no job and no source of income, so could she please please please have a job with Strife Delivery and (because Shinra had been paying for her apartment) could she please please please stay at the Seventh Heaven for just one or two nights while she looked for a new place to live? Tifa and Cloud, being the compassionate and caring people that they were (they couldn't ever seem to turn that off), agreed. Of course, the moving-out-again part hadn't really worked. _She probably didn't realize how little money she would be making working for Strife Delivery, _Denzel thought to himself.

Then, a few months after that, there had been a big confrontation with an organization called Deep Ground, after which they had been joined in the Seventh Heaven by yet another permanent guest: a super genius named Shelke Rui. Though she was actually in her early twenties, Deep Ground experiments had trapped her in the body of a young girl. Shelke had no living family, having lost her sister in the conflict with Deep Ground, so Tifa and Cloud had (naturally) offered her a place to live at the Seventh Heaven.

Shelke was followed by Vincent, who had moved in for reasons unknown to Denzel. Then there was Yuffie, who seemed to just turn up at random intervals. And of course, Barrett—Marlene's father and part owner of the Seventh Heaven—stayed at the house whenever he was in town.

_There is just no way twelve people can live here, _he decided_. It just isn't possible; the others have to have noticed it too. Something has to be done; we can't go on like this. Space is tight, and money is tighter. _Denzel knew that Cloud and Tifa tried to avoid talking about money in front of the kids, but it was hard to hide the problem when they could only afford electricity every other month. _Somebody will just have to move out. I'm sure that will make things better for everyone. They've all got to be as miserable as I am! Maybe Yazoo or Kadaj or Loz; they're all strong, and I'm sure they would be fine on their own. Or Shelke. She _is _an adult, after all. _

Denzel arrived in the main room of the Seventh Heaven. The room was set up like a café or a bar, but the inhabitants of the house used it as more of a living room. Denzel looked around the room, hoping that Cloud hadn't left for a delivery yet.

"Cloud!" he called, when he saw him walking out the front door. Cloud looked around and Denzel ran over to him. "Cloud, I need to talk to you about something."

Cloud regarded him for a moment. "Ok. But, I have to make a delivery for Mrs. Feemster. Can it wait until I come back?"

Mrs. Feemster could only be described as an ancient, angry biddy whose favorite pastime was hitting people with her walking stick. Denzel sighed. "I guess so."

"I'll be back in about an hour."

"Ok." The door shut behind Cloud, and Denzel sighed again. What to do until Cloud came back? He started wandering aimlessly around the house, and—as young boys are wont to do—ended up in the kitchen. This was Yazoo's base of operations, as it had been since shortly after his arrival. Soon after moving in, Yazoo had discovered both a talent and an enjoyment for domestic tasks. He had taken over most of the cooking and cleaning in the Seventh Heaven, and no one was complaining. He was also something of a receptionist for Strife Delivery Service.

As Denzel walked in, the phone rang, and he watched as Yazoo answered it.

"Strife Delivery: you name it, we'll deliver it! Uh-huh. Mhmm. Yes, we certainly can." His voice was somewhat monotone, but was still pleasant to listen to, due to a certain…musical quality it possessed. He turned and saw Denzel in the doorway, and waved him forward. "Yes, ma'am," he continued to the person on the phone. "And what is the address?" He picked up a pen, and wrote on a note pad. "Uh-huh, uh-huh. Was that 43? All right. Now, did you have a specific delivery person in mind? Ok. We should be able to get to your house early this afternoon. No, thank you. Goodbye." He ripped the top sheet off his notepad and pinned it on a cork board on the back wall of the kitchen. The board had several columns, each with a delivery-person's name at the top. Yazoo pinned the new address under Kadaj's name. Then he turned back to Denzel, smiling slightly.

"Good morning, Denzel. I was just about to get the cookies I made for after lunch out of the oven." Behind him, a timer dinged. Yazoo turned around, and Denzel heard the oven door open. The scent of fresh chocolate chip cookies washed over him. After Yazoo had moved the cookie sheet to the counter, Denzel heard him say in a mock-worried tone, "Oh, dear. It seems I've made a mistake. This cookie is much too big to be served with the others. It just wouldn't look right."

He brought the cookie sheet around where Denzel could see, and indeed, among numerous ordinary sized cookies, there was one massive cookie; it looked more like a pancake than a cookie! "What ever shall I do with it?" Yazoo continued, smiling slightly.

"Um…er…" Denzel's mouth was already watering. He loved chocolate chip cookies. "Isn't having desert before the main meal…a bad thing?"

"Well, normally I would say yes. But the truth is, you look pretty down today; you looked like you could _use_ a cookie." Yazoo pulled a small plate out of the cupboard and transferred the large cookie to it. "Just don't tell Tifa who gave it to you."

"You are pretty much the only person who cooks in this house. She's gonna know where I got it."

"Yes, well, plausible deniability, you know."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, just take the cookie." Yazoo handed him the small plate. Denzel took it, and walked out of the kitchen toward the upstairs. As he left, he heard the phone ring again, and heard Yazoo answer, "Strife Delivery: you name it, we deliver it!"

_I suppose Yazoo really should stay, _Denzel thought, _and not just because he gave me a cookie. He is always doing nice things for us. He takes care of us. This house probably would fall apart without him, not to mention Strife Delivery. And besides, I guess he does kind of need us. Without anyone to take care of, he would be really depressed._

Denzel was just about to take a bite out of his cookie, when he heard what sounded like sniffing. He looked around, and at the end of the hall, he saw Kadaj sitting with his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were shaking slightly, and he was sniffing morosely. Denzel walked up cautiously.

"Um, Kadaj?"

Kadaj jumped at the sound of his voice, and looked up. Denzel saw tear stains running down his face.

"Kadaj? Is everything ok?" Denzel sat down next to him.

Kadaj was quiet for a moment, then said, "I dreamed I was Sephiroth. I destroyed everything that matters to me. This place, all of you. And I enjoyed it. It brought me so much pleasure. I was laughing while I listened to you all screaming. Cloud…Tifa…Marlene…Shelke…you…" He lapsed into silence, fresh tears falling down his face.

Kadaj had been trouble by dreams like this since he had returned to Gaia. He could never tell Cloud about them, but Denzel…somehow he knew that Denzel would understand.

"Well, if you were Sephiroth in your dream, then doesn't that mean that whatever dream-you did was his fault, not yours?" Denzel asked.

"I know that, but it _felt _like me. Every cruel thing Sephiroth did _feels _like me."

"But, it wasn't you!" Denzel insisted. He didn't like to see Kadaj being hurt by Sephiroth; in a way, it was kind of like seeing a little brother being bullied. Even though Kadaj had an adult body and all the physical skills of an adult, in some ways, he was like a kid.

"Maybe not," Kadaj said, though he didn't sound particularly convinced, "but I did a lot of cruel things when I was trying to bring Sephiroth back the first time. That was me."

"Well, yeah, but that was a long time ago! You're different now! Besides, you didn't really understand that what you were doing was wrong!"

"And, if Sephiroth ever hurts anyone again," continued Kadaj, as though he hadn't heard Denzel speak, "it will be my fault, because I couldn't control him; couldn't stop him."

Denzel thought for a moment. It was true that Sephiroth's consciousness was inside Kadaj's mind (or body; he wasn't quite clear on which), but that certainly didn't place the blame for Sephiroth's actions on him. He wished he could make Kadaj understand that.

"Do you want half my cookie?" He asked, finally.

"Yes, please," Kadaj answered, brightening slightly.

_Wow, _Denzel thought as he broke the large cookie in half and handed one half to Kadaj. _He really is like a kid. _He had noticed it shortly after he and his brothers had moved in, and had asked Cloud about it. Cloud had explained that Kadaj's child-like innocence was his mind's way of defending itself against Sephiroth. Cloud had said, "It lets him trust people. That keeps him from being too afraid or suspicious. It helps him not to get angry, and when he does get angry, it helps to keep him from becoming bitter. Any of those emotions—fear, suspicion, bitterness—would make Sephiroth stronger. Thinking like a kid helps Kadaj keep him buried." Denzel thought about that as he looked at his silver-haired friend. He felt really sorry for him, having to constantly fight a battle that they had all thought was over.

"I don't think you should blame yourself for what Sephiroth does. That would be like me smashing a vase on your head and then blaming you for breaking it. It just doesn't make sense." Kadaj nibbled on his half of the cookie, considering Denzel's words. They ate quietly for a moment. Then Denzel continued. "I don't think Sephiroth will ever be able to beat you, anyway."

Kadaj started at that, staring at Denzel in amazement. "Why do you think that? His power far outstrips mine!"

"So what? Listen, even though he's inside you, he is all alone. He hasn't got anyone on his side. Out here, you've got all of us! We're all here to help you! What chance does Sephiroth really stand against all of us?" Kadaj was still staring at him, but now he was smiling, and his eyes radiated deep gratitude.

Denzel finished off his half of the cookie and stood up. He started to move down the hallway, then turned back. "One other thing. You shouldn't worry about stuff that happened…that you did…you know, before. Everyone understands, and we've all forgiven you, and Yazoo and Loz."

"But I brainwashed you, and tried to make Cloud run you over with a motorcycle!"

"I'm over it. I don't worry about it anymore; neither should you. None of that stuff matters; you're family now."

Kadaj smiled. "Thank you, Denzel."

A moment later, they heard Tifa's voice from downstairs. "Kadaj! Yazoo says your deliveries are starting to pile up! You might want to head out pretty soon!"

"All right!" Kadaj called, getting to his feet. "See you," he said to Denzel as he passed him, and headed down the stairs. Denzel looked after him, thinking to himself. _There is no way we could ask Kadaj to leave. He needs us. He needs out support and our friendship to suppress Sephiroth. He needs our support and our friendship, period. Besides, he is always happy to help Cloud and Tifa, and he has been really helpful to Strife Delivery._

Denzel sighed, then shrugged. He walked over to the bedroom he shared with Cloud and Vincent, and pushed the door open.

"Oh, hey Vince," he said, seeing Vincent Valentine sitting on the pullout bed he slept on. Vincent gave a slight nod, and then went back to reading that morning's newspaper. Denzel moved over to his own bed and sat down, looking at Vincent, trying to work up the nerve to speak. He had always found Vincent kind of intimidating.

"I…I was wondering…" he began. Vincent looked up at him with his blood red eyes. Denzel gulped. "Before you moved in here, where did you live?"

Vincent stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Why?"

"Just curious," Denzel said in a barely audible whisper.

Another long moment passed. Vincent looked back to his paper, and for a moment, Denzel thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he heard, "A cave."

"A cave?" His surprise at this piece of information caused him to completely forget his plan to direct the conversation to his agenda.

"A cave," confirmed Vincent.

"Alone?"

Vincent froze for a second, and then sighed. "Yeah. Alone."

"For how long?"

"Years."

"And then you wanted to come here?"

"I hadn't planned on it; I was going to look for my own place. But then Cloud pointed out that I didn't have any money. And I…" Vincent paused.

"What?" pressed Denzel.

"I've been alone for long enough." Vincent shifted where he sat so that the newspaper came up, blocking the view of his face, and effectively ending the conversation. Denzel sat for a moment, and then sighed again. _Well, Vincent is staying. Who could ask him to leave after that? I sure couldn't. I wouldn't want to._

Denzel walked back out into the hall, wondering for a moment what to do next. Then, realizing that he was still holding the small plate Yazoo had given him for his cookie, he walked back down the stairs into the main room. He was about to turn into the kitchen, when he saw Shelke Rui sitting alone in a booth close to the window. She looked thoroughly downtrodden (or, at least Denzel thought she did; Shelke effectively kept most of her feelings hidden). Denzel walked over to her, and said, "Hey, Shelke."

She looked up, and said in a completely monotone voice, "Hello, Denzel."

Denzel sat down in the chair opposite her. "So…how are you doing?"

Shelke sighed ever so slightly (Shelke's version of a loud, exasperated groan) and answered, "It has been a…_trying_ week."

"How come?"

"I have still been unable to find employment."

"Nobody will give you a job?" said Denzel, indignant. Shelke was extremely brilliant, and would certainly have been an asset anywhere computers were used. "Why?"

"Due to my appearance," Shelke said, with a slight touch of bitterness. "I am still perceived by most as a child."

"But you're not a child! And even if you were, you're way smarter than most of the adults I know!"

Was is Denzel's imagination, or did a ghost of a smile appear on her face?

"Be that as it may, most people are reluctant to hire a child."

"That sucks!"

"Yes, I suppose it does."

"Why don't you work for Strife Delivery, you know, like everyone else?"

"I do not own a motorcycle, and Strife Delivery Service has little need for a computer consultant."

"Yeah, that's true. Hey! Why don't you work for the WRO?" The World Regenisis Organization, directed by Commissioner Reeve Tuesti, was a group formed to help restore people of Gaia following the series of calamities that had crippled their planet. They ran relief funds and organizations, as well as establishing and training a standing army to protect innocent people against new threats. They were noble people, led by a noble man, with noble goals. On top of that, several of its top members were also close personal friends of Denzel's.

"I _do _perform occasional tasks for the WRO, in a consultant's capacity. But I cannot obtain permanent employment there."

"Why not?"

"Reeve Tuesti has a strict policy against hiring children."

"I'm familiar with it," Denzel said bitterly. He had also sought a job with the WRO. "But you _aren't _really a child!"

"I know that."

"And Reeve knows it too!"

"Yes, he does."

"Then he should hire you!"

Shelke sighed. "No, he should not."

Denzel stared at her for a moment, his mouth hanging open in confusion. Finally, he said, "I don't get it."

Shelke sighed again. "You see, there are some people—not a majority, mind you, far from it, but some—who hate the WRO."

"Evil people."

"Yes, some are evil. Some are just misinformed. All of them have different reasons for disliking the WRO. Some don't like that Reeve Tuesti is at its head. Some don't like the way it operates. Some don't agree with its methods. Some dislike it just because they have to dislike something. Whatever their reasons, these people use any excuse to undermine the WRO, to undermine Reeve Tuesti. For Reeve to go against one of his own policies would be the perfect opportunity for such people. They would use it to question the viability of the organization, and to question Reeve's ability to lead it. They could undermine the whole organization, undoing everything we have worked for. The world needs the WRO, and it needs Reeve Tuesti at its head. That is why, for now, I cannot work at the WRO."

Denzel couldn't believe it. "That…that's not fair!"

"No, it isn't."

"You shouldn't have to suffer because of a few idiots! You…you're really smart, and I know that you would be a huge help to anyone who hired you!"

A small smile appeared on Shelke's face. "That is kind of you to say. And I am grateful to you for your indignation on my behalf. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the situation the way you do." Shelke turn away from Denzel, looking out the window. She spoke again, more to herself than Denzel. "I can only hope others come to accept me in the same way."

Denzel jumped up and exclaimed, "Well, until they do, you live in a house full of people who have accepted you! And until the rest of the idiots on Gaia wise up, you'll…you'll always have a place here!"

Shelke looked slightly surprised by his passionate outburst. Denzel was a little surprised himself, but he couldn't help sympathizing with Shelke's plight. There had been many times in Denzel's life where being treated like a child had deeply frustrated him. The worst had definitely been when his youth had prevented him from getting into the WRO army. And he actually _was _a kid! He couldn't imagine how frustrated Shelke must be.

A moment passed, and Shelke got over her surprise. Her eyes were filled with genuine gratitude when she said, "Thank you."

They talked for a couple more minutes, and then Shelke decided to go see if Yazoo needed help with lunch. As Denzel followed her to return the plate he was still carrying, he sighed and thought to himself, _Today isn't going quite as planned. _

After returning the small plate to the kitchen, where Yazoo was once again on the phone ("Strife Delivery: you name it, we deliver it!"), Denzel wandered out the front door into the yard. He was so distracted that he walked straight into Loz, who was walking up the front steps.

"Oof!" Denzel grunted as he fell to the floor (walking into Loz—with his six-and-a-half feet and about two hundred pounds of solid muscle—was a lot like walking into a wall).

"Ow!" exclaimed Loz (though Denzel couldn't imagine that he had actually hurt the large man). "What did you do that for?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," Denzel said indignantly from the floor.

"Well, I guess it's ok then." Loz reached down and with one hand picked up Denzel by the back of his shirt and set him on his feet. It seemed to take no more effort than picking up a piece of clothing.

"Sorry about that Loz. I was…thinking."

"Probably shouldn't think so hard. It can be dangerous."

Denzel laughed. "Yeah, you might be right. So, how come you aren't on a delivery?"

"My bike was acting up yesterday. I had to fix her up before I could go out."

"Oh. Need a hand?"

"Nah. Thanks, but I found the problem. But hey, Elena's been complaining that her truck makes a weird noise every time she turns left, and I promised her I'd take a look at it after work today. I could use a hand with that."

"Ok. Sure, I'll help." Denzel thought for a moment. Of everyone in the house, it wouldn't really be a stretch to say that Loz did more manual labor than anyone—even Cloud or Tifa. He worked hard for the delivery service every day, and then did a lot of the mechanical work on the four motorcycles (Cloud, Yazoo, Loz and Kadaj all owned one) and Elena's truck. That struck Denzel as a little bit odd. Cloud was a capable mechanic, but Loz always volunteered to do all the work on the machines. _Maybe he's sick of doing all that work, _Denzel thought, hopefully. "Hey, Loz…"

"Yeah?"

"You ever think that it's a little unfair that you have to do so much work around here? I mean, with the delivery service and keeping everyone's bikes working and everything."

Loz laughed. "No way! I like helping everybody out. That's what family does, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"Helping Cloud and everybody makes me feel like a real…" Loz sniffed, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked, as though he were speaking past a lump in his throat. "A real member of the family."

"You…you _are_ a real member of the family!" Denzel exclaimed.

Loz sniffed again, then smiled down at Denzel. "Thanks. You know, it was great when it was just me, Yazoo and Kadaj. But it is really nice having a big family. There are so many people to help, and who can help you when you need it. Well, I'm pretty behind on today's deliveries, so I'd better go see Yazoo. See ya, kid!" Loz walked up the stairs and into the Seventh Heaven.

Denzel sat down on the bottom step, thinking about Loz's words. When he was younger, it had been just him and his parents. It had been nice, but kind of lonely sometimes. The same had been true when he had been living with Ms. Ruvi after his parents had died. It _was _kind of nice having a lot of people around who cared about him. There was always someone to talk to.

He was still thinking along these lines when a large, dark blue pickup truck pulled up to the curb. Out stepped Elena, a pretty blond woman who had, until recently, been working as a bodyguard for Rufus Shinra as a member of the Turks. Now, she drove her truck for Strife Delivery.

"Hey, Denis!" She said cheerfully, walking up to him.

"Denzel," he corrected.

"Right, right, sorry. I'm just awful with names. But I'll get it one of these days."

Denzel snorted. He doubted it.

"So, what are you doing out here?" she asked brightly.

"I was just…uh…"

"Trying to get away from the crowd?" she said in a very knowing tone. She sat down next to him on the step.

"How…how did you know?"

"You aren't the only one who has a tough time living with ten other people. I have to get away sometimes too. I'm used to living alone."

"So…how come you wanted to move in here?" Denzel was confused.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't have much of a choice. After I left my job with Shinra, I didn't have any money. Shinra only takes care of employees that retire, not ones who quit."

"Then, why not stay with friends?"

"All my friends were Turks. They've pretty much been shunning me since I quit." Elena sighed, and looked up at the sky. She continued in a contemplative tone. "I thought I was in real trouble there. I had no money, no income, no friends, and no home. I didn't know what I was going to do. Then Tifa turned up, and told me I'd be welcome here. I could have work, and I wouldn't have to fight anymore. I know everyone has had to sacrifice a lot to give me a home here; money and space are both pretty tight. But I am _so _grateful. I thought I had nothing. Turns out I had friends—a lot of friends. Good friends, who would go out of their way to help me. I am _so _grateful to Cloud and Tifa. And…" She turned suddenly to look at Denzel, smiling brightly. "I'm grateful to you. It can't be easy, having a house filled to the brim with people. We did kind of break into your little family. Thanks for putting up with me!"

"Uh…ya…you're welcome," he said with a sigh. In the face of her bright, happy smile, what else could he say?

Elena leaned over and hugged him tightly. When she let go, she got up, and walked the rest of the way up the steps. With a parting, "See ya, Darryl!" she walked through the front door. Denzel rolled his eyes, grinning, but didn't bother to correct her. He was still looking after her when he heard the roar of a motorcycle approaching. He turned around to see Cloud driving up to the curb.

"Hey, Denzel," he said, climbing off his bike. He walked up to stand in front of Denzel. "So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Denzel opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. The events and the conversations of the day replayed themselves in his head. One thought superimposed itself over the rest: _How could I have been so selfish?_ He had wanted to just kick people out of the house, and why? Because he never got the last piece of pie? Because he couldn't watch what he wanted on TV all the time? Because he was tired of having to take ten minutes to set the table every night? Suddenly, all those sacrifices seemed minor, even minuscule. What did it matter if it took a couple of extra minutes to get into the bathroom in the morning? The people living in the Seventh Heaven—all of them—needed to be here. More than that, they needed each other, needed _him_. With that thought, he realized something else: he needed them too. Each and every one of them was an important part of his life. Without any one of them, his family wouldn't be complete.

After a moment, he spoke aloud. "No, it's nothing. Never mind."

"Are you sure?" Cloud asked. "It sounded pretty important."

Denzel looked up at Cloud, and smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure."

* * *

**Thanks so much to all of you who read this! Please review! Major issues, minor issues, what you liked, what you didn't-I need to hear it all!**

**More chapters to follow, filled with family fluff and fluff and family struggles, and (maybe) just a tiny bit of romance.**

**Once again, thanks, and thank you for your review!**

**-JenovatheCalamity**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these people, places, or things.  
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	2. It's Not Easy Being Yazoo

In Tifa's 7th Heaven, no one worked harder than Yazoo. Of course, he would have been quick to say differently. After all, he made none of the deliveries, and did none of the heavy lifting. He didn't even do any of the machine repair work. But even so, Yazoo's day was far from easy. He was the first to begin work every morning, and the last to quit at night. But this didn't trouble him; it was part of the job of the person who manages a household.

His day began early. On this day, as on any other, he awoke promptly at 4:20 in the morning, and dressed in the dark (which isn't easy with all black clothes). He never turned the lights on to dress, for fear of disturbing Kadaj, whose sleep was disturbed enough by nightmares of Sephiroth. (He never worried about bothering Loz. Loz woke at 6:30 in the morning without an alarm of any kind, but before that time, he couldn't be awakened by an earthquake.) Then, it was downstairs to start the day's work.

Even though he stayed up late at night working on housework, there was always something he hadn't had time to get to. Sometimes, it was washing dishes or cleaning up the kitchen and main room from supper the night before. Sometimes, it was laundry that needed folding (with at least ten people living in the house at any given time, there was almost always laundry). This particular morning, all that needed to be done was organizing the deliveries that Cloud, Tifa, Loz, Kadaj and Elena hadn't gotten to the day before. Once he finished this organization (by what time the customer had called and the distance the deliverer had to travel to make the delivery), it was five o'clock, and time to begin the morning'swork: preparing for the awakening of the rest of the household. It was his (self-appointed) task to wake everyone up at the correct time, and make sure they were fed before beginning their own day's work.

First: Cloud. He had to get up more than an hour before most of the others, because he was the most willing to do the long distance deliveries. Yazoo started water boiling for Cloud's oatmeal (plain), and poured a glass of orange juice. Then, at 5:15, he went up stairs to wake him. It didn't take long; Cloud always awoke without trouble or complaint from just a tap on the shoulder. He went downstairs, leaving Yazoo to awaken the next in line.

After Cloud came Elena. She had to get up around 5:30 (since she drove Strife Delivery's only truck, she didn't really have a choice about having to make long distance deliveries), but Yazoo knew it might well take fifteen minutes just to wake her up. The trick was waking her without waking Tifa, Shelke, or Marlene, who all shared her room.

He slid into the room, and moved quietly over to Elena's bed, situated between Shelke's and Marlene's. He walked up next to her bed, and laid a hand gently on her shoulder.

"Elena," he whispered.

Nothing.

"Elena," he whispered again, giving her shoulder a slight shake. She gave a small snore, but otherwise, gave no response.

"_Elena. Elena!_" he hissed, and shook her shoulder more forcefully. Still, she gave no sign that she was aware of his presence at all.

There came a groan from beside him. Yazoo looked around, and saw that Marlene was sitting up. She turned her face toward Yazoo, and he could see from her vacant expression and half closed eyes that she was barely awake.

"I'm sorry. Go back to sl…" he began in a whisper. But he was interrupted by a flurry of movement. In a flash, Marlene seized her pillow, and flung it with all her might (more might than Yazoo would have thought possible) at Elena. It struck her hard on the face, and she awoke with a start.

"Uh….uh..huh…?" she murmured.

"It's time for you to get up, Elena." Yazoo whispered. He turned to Marlene to thank her for her help, but she had already fallen back to the bed, and was again fast asleep. Smiling slightly, Yazoo retrieved her pillow and slid it gently under her head. Then he turned back to Elena. "If you don't get up now, I'm afraid you won't have time for your coffee before you leave."

That caught her attention. "Alright, alright. I'm _up_. I'll be down in a minute."

Yazoo returned downstairs to make sure Cloud's breakfast was alright, and to start water boiling for Elena's coffee. She started every day with at least two cups.

A couple of minutes later, Elena staggered down the stairs, yawning.

"Morning," Cloud called to her.

"Shut up," she answered.

A quarter of an hour later, Cloud left the 7th Heaven with a nod of thanks to Yazoo, and Elena soon followed, yawning and clutching her third cup of coffee.

Now, Yazoo had just over half an hour before the other members of the household started to get up. Finally some personal time—now he could get ahead on the housework! This was the best time during the day to get work done. Starting at precisely 7:00, thanks to his job as phone operator of Strife Delivery Service, almost all the housework he did would have to be one handed. Glad of the extra time, he set to work, washing, dusting or sweeping every surface in the kitchen.

He had just started on the café, when Loz's soft but heavy footfalls on the stairs told him that is was 6:30, and time to wake up and feed the rest of the delivery persons. He pulled three large white bowls from a cupboard, and set them in front of chairs along the café's bar. He had just filled one of the bowls with a brightly colored, sugary cereal (the breakfast of choice for Loz, as well as Denzel and Marlene) when Loz walked in.

"Morning," he called to Yazoo, then saw the cereal. "Candy Crunchies!" he exclaimed, and dashed over to the bar to begin wolfing down his breakfast. Yazoo smiled slightly, and thought to himself as he went back up the stairs, _you would never know he has that exact same thing for breakfast every day._ On the family's limited budget, there wasn't a huge amount of variety. In fact, even the cereals he could buy weren't brand names, but the cheapest store brands he could find. But, no one cared. Many of them had come from backgrounds where just having food was an improvement.

After waking Tifa and Kadaj, he poured them each a bowl of their cereal of choice (bran flakes with dried raisins for both), noticing as he did so that there was just barely enough cereal left in the box for the two of them.

_I'll have to pick up some more later,_ he thought to himself.

To his surprise, the three of them were joined in the café a minute later by Shelke. Shelke, who had not been able to find a job and so had no reason to get up early, usually slept much later. Yazoo poured her a bowl of plain bran flakes, noticing again that he had to empty the box to fill her bowl.

Shelke sat down, and began to eat quickly. Between mouthfuls, she said, "The Commissioner has asked me to assist in the installation of the _Shera's _new computer system. I should return in time for dinner, but I doubt I will be back for lunch." Reeve Tuesti, Commissioner of the WRO, often asked for Shelke's help in projects that pertained to computers, and she was always eager to assist him. The _Shera—_the lead airship in the WRO's fleet—had taken heavy damage in a recent conflict, and needed a refit badly. Shelke finished eating quickly, and hurried out the door, after a quick "Good morning" to Tifa, Kadaj and Loz.

"Well, we had better get going," Tifa said, dropping her spoon into her empty bowl.

"Here are the deliveries left from yesterday." Yazoo divided the leftover stack of addresses between the three of them. "I should have plenty more by lunch time."

They all took their lists of addresses, and headed out the door to their motorcycles (except Tifa, who didn't own a motorcycle and instead used Yazoo's).

Once they were on their way, Yazoo turned his attention to the clock. 6:59. Time for the real work to begin. The moment the clock read 7:00, Yazoo plugged in the phone Strife Delivery used for business calls. Almost at once, the phone began to ring. Yazoo's cell phone, which was connected to the business phone whenever it was plugged in, rang at the same time.

He answered his phone, and said, "Strife Delivery: You name it, we deliver it!"

The next hour passed in a flurry of dishwashing, address writing, and capricious customers. Every minute and a half or so, the phone would ring, and Yazoo would quote the service's motto to another customer. And what a variety of customers it was. From girls so flighty and giggly that Yazoo was sure they only wanted deliveries made in the hopes of meeting one of the handsome deliverymen, to irate men and women demanding that their frivolous deliveries be given top priority, and spouting all manner of foul language. Yazoo treated them all the same: pleasantly and politely, handling all their requests (or demands) with dignity. He got their addresses, and then asked if they wanted to request a specific delivery person. If they did, Yazoo would tear their addresses out of the notepad he was using, and tack it up in the column of the preferred delivery person. The rest, he just left in a pile to be given to those who ended up with fewer requests.

At around 8:00, it was time to wake Denzel and Marlene. Yazoo walked up the stairs, and after knocking lightly, walked into the girls' room, which was now empty except for Marlene. He walked over to the foot of her bed, and began, "Marlene, it's…" But he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.

"Strife Delivery: you name it, we deliver it! Yes, sir, we certainly can. And your address?" Yazoo pulled out his notepad, and wrote down the address. "We'll send Elena with the truck this afternoon. Have a nice day." He hung up the phone.

"Marlene," he tried again. "It's time…" Once again, he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. "Strife Delivery: you name it, we deliver it! Yes, ma'am, we can deliver cats, but they have to be caged, and you will have to wait until later today, when our truck is back in town. Excellent. What is your address? Alright, have a nice day."

He turned for the third time to Marlene. "Marle…" He sighed heavily as the phone rang yet again. "Strife Delivery: you name it, we deliver it! Certainly. What is your address? And was there a specific delivery person you wanted to request? I'm sorry, you will have to be a bit more specific. Which one is 'the hot one'? Alright, I'll send Cloud over early this afternoon. Have a nice day." Before his phone had a chance to ring again, he shouted as quickly as he could, "MARLENEIT'STIMETOGETUP!"

Marlene sat up and said groggily, "Huh?" As Yazoo answered his phone, which has just rung again, he motioned toward the clock above Marlene's head, and pointed out the door. Marlene nodded, yawned, and climbed out of bed. Yazoo left the room and continued down the hall, expecting the same ordeal with Denzel. However, when he walked into the room Denzel shared with Cloud and Vincent. Vincent, who had been reading on his own bed, took pity on Yazoo. "I'll get him," he said.

Yazoo nodded his thanks, and returned downstairs.

A few minutes later, Yazoo, in an astounding five minute reprieve from the continuous phone calls, poured and served two bowls of Candy Crunchies.

"How come Denzel gets fruit?" Marlene asked, having just watched Yazoo slice a banana into Denzel's bowl.

"Denzel has a test today. I thought he could use the pick-me-up."

Denzel smiled appreciatively. Marlene spoke again, "So…since I have a test tomorrow, can I have fresh fruit?"

"Yes."

"Can…can that fruit be strawberries?"

"Yes," Yazoo said, smiling.

Over the next few minutes, Marlene and Denzel ate while, in between calls, Yazoo packed them both lunches, noting with some distress that bread, peanut butter, and jelly all had to be added to his mental list of things which they were nearly out of.

Vincent came down briefly, but left quickly when he learned that the only thing available for breakfast was the sugary cereal favored by the kids (and Loz). None of them were exactly sure what Vincent did when the others were working. He did contribute to the family funds, so they could only assume he had a job somewhere.

When the two children had finished eating, Yazoo gave them their lunches, and waved them out the door. There, they would join the rest of the herd of children walking to the local school (which was actually the only elementary school in Edge).

Yazoo spent the rest of the morning in the same way he spent every morning: making the 7th Heaven fit to live in. After finishing the breakfast dishes, he dusted the upstairs hallway, laundered all the sheets and blankets on the ten beds in the house, and began a thorough scrubbing of the 7th Heaven's only shower. Most of this was done one handed, of course, between his phone answering and his address writing.

Yazoo marveled at how well the business was doing. It hadn't been all that long ago (just after Kadaj, Yazoo, and Loz had come to live at the 7th Heaven) that Strife Delivery had been doing almost no business at all. They had only a few customers who weren't already friends of theirs. Then, Marlene had had the simple, but brilliant idea to include a picture of Cloud on the delivery service's flyer. Suddenly, women 18 to 90 started calling in just to meet the handsome delivery boy. At first, Cloud had refused to make these deliveries and had wanted to take his picture back off the flyer; it felt wrong to him to be paid just for being good-looking, when he was trying to do honest work. Then, he realized that his family had recently doubled in size, and they all needed to be fed. Besides, as Tifa said, "What's wrong with raising a few nice ladies' morale?"

Gradually, the other deliverers had gained more popularity, and the service had become known for its efficiency and work ethic, as well as its attractive workers. (Of course, Cloud was still the most popular; he had once returned from a day of work and told them that he had spent 45 minutes walking back and forth between the houses of two middle aged women, who paid the full delivery fee over and over again to deliver sandwiches between their two houses.)

Just before lunch time, Yazoo took a break to make the sandwiches for everyone's lunch. One by one, all the deliverers stepped in just long enough to grab a sandwich and a fresh stack of addresses from Yazoo. Cloud was still the most popular, and so ended up with the most requests, but the others all had a fair number, and there were plenty of miscellaneous deliveries to go around.

Most of the afternoon passed in the same way as the morning: filled with housework and phone calls. It was also punctuated by the occasional return of one of the delivery persons, finished with the deliveries Yazoo had given them, and ready to start on the next set, and one phone call from Denzel asking if he and Marlene could play soccer in the park after school with some of the other kids. This existence might sound monotonous, but Yazoo loved it. Keeping his family happy and healthy and comfortable…there was nothing that made him happier. He loved every bit of it.

That is, he loved every bit of it…until nearly 4:00, when _that woman _called.

When the phone first rang, Yazoo answered, as always, "Strife Delivery: You name it, we…"

But the woman on the other end interrupted in her high, scratchy voice, "Oh, shut up! I can't believe you're still using that stupid motto! I've seen slugs write out cleverer things with their slime trails!"

"Ah. Good afternoon, Mrs. Feemster," Yazoo replied, polite as ever.

Mrs. Feemster. Every week or so, that crone would call in, using a delivery as an excuse to insult them all vehemently.

"What is so good about it? Don't patronize me! It's bad enough that I have to talk to you idiots at all without you patronizing me!"

"Of course, you're right. I do apologize. Are you still interested in hiring Strife Delivery Service?"

"Hrumph," she said, sounding slightly put-out. It seemed to Yazoo that she enjoyed making people lose their tempers, so that she could make herself feel like the victim, and go right on complaining about how poorly she was treated. This was why she so disliked Yazoo—he never gave her the satisfaction. He never lost his temper or his polite manner, no matter how hard she tried to provoke him. On the other hand, maybe that was why she called the delivery service at all: to hear one kind voice. Yazoo didn't know which was the case, and thought he probably never would.

"I have some clothes I want delivered to my sister," she continued. "You think you useless lay-abouts can handle that? Or should I give the job to someone more qualified? Like a monkey?"

"I am sure we can handle the task. Did you wish to request a specific delivery person?"

"Yeah…send that weirdo…the one with the funny outfit."

"Weirdo? Funny outfit?" From Mrs. Feemster's point of view, that could be any of the deliverers.

"It's all black and way too tight. Looks ridiculous."

"Oh. Do you want the one who needs a haircut, or the one with the awful haircut?"

"The one who needs a haircut."

"All right. He should be by within a couple of hours. Have a nice day."

"Too late for that!" she snapped, and Yazoo heard the phone slam down on the other end.

Yazoo pulled the phone away from his ear and dialed a new number. After a couple of rings, his call was answered.

"Hello?"

"Kadaj, it's Yazoo. Are you nearly finished with your deliveries?"

"Yes, I just finished the last one you gave me. I was about to return home for more."

"Good. We just got a call from a certain repeat customer, and she requested you."

"But why…oh." Kadaj groaned. "Yazoo, no," he whined.

"She asked for you."

"Last time I made a delivery for her, she tried to beat me over the head with her walking stick!"

"She _missed_," Yazoo said, imploringly.

"That doesn't change the intent, Yazoo," Kadaj hissed.

Yazoo sighed heavily. "You're right, but we do have Strife Delivery's reputation to think about. I'll make it up to you."

"How?"

"I'll make spaghetti for dinner."

"I like spaghetti." Kadaj's tone was accusatory.

"I know that."

There was a long moment of silence, then, "Fine." The phone clicked, signaling an abrupt end to their conversation.

Yazoo looked over to the clock, and saw that it was just past 4:00. At last, he could switch off the Strife Delivery phone service, and devote himself whole-heartedly to the task of preparing the family dinner. _Speaking of which, _Yazoo thought to himself as he unplugged the business's phone, _if I'm going to make spaghetti tonight, I should check and make sure I have all the supplies I need. _He went into the kitchen, and opened the cupboard above the counter where he usually kept the spaghetti noodles.

The cupboard was completely empty.

He opened the cupboard next to it and…nothing. It was empty too. In some distress, Yazoo went through every cupboard in the kitchen and the few behind the bar in the café area. When they didn't turn up anything, we went through every shelf and every drawer in the refrigerator and freezer.

Nothing! Not only did they not have the ingredients for spaghetti, they didn't have anything to eat at all! Yazoo sighed. This happened every two or three weeks. The family was often so hard up for gil that Yazoo loathed asking for money to go grocery shopping. He would always convince himself that there was enough for one more meal, one more day, until finally they completely ran out of anything edible.

Yazoo's fretting was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He walked back into the café, and saw Tifa walking in, looking cheerful.

"Hey, Yazoo!" she called. "Any more deliveries for me?"

"Yes, quite a few, actually, but we have a problem."

"What is it?" Tifa asked, her cheerful expression fading.

"We are completely out of food."

"What, again? How much food do you use?" she exclaimed.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I do like to feed everyone more than once a day."

Tifa groaned loudly, burying her face in her hands for a moment. Then, pulling her hands away, she said, "You're right, of course your right, I'm sorry." She sighed, and continued, "How much do you need?"

"Well, after spending a good part of last weekend clipping out coupons, I believe I can do it for 850 gil."

"_850…_" Tifa began, in a horrified tone, but Yazoo interrupted. "That is quite impressive for a family of ten, and it is almost 200 gil less than I had to ask you for last time."

"All right." Tifa turned and started to walk up the stairs, and Yazoo followed. Tifa kept track of the family finances for the simple reason that, as the owner of the 7th Heaven, the building was in her name, and all the bills were sent to her.

Tifa kept the family's money in a locked metal box in a drawer in her dresser. (The WRO had been working on establishing a bank for almost three years, but had so far been unsuccessful; after Shinra, people had no inclination to trust large corporations with their money.) Tifa counted out the specified amount of gil, and gave it to Yazoo, though rather reluctantly.

"Does this mean that we are eating our electric or water bill?" Yazoo asked.

"No, but it is most of the money that we didn't set aside for bills. This means that Denzel will have to start telling people his pants are shorts. And we may have to find a way to shrink Marlene's feet."

Much as Yazoo regretted spending the children's clothing money, he felt it was more important that they ate. So, an hour later, Yazoo could be found walking up and down the isles of the local grocery store, pushing one cart in front of him, and pulling two behind. He collected everything off the shelves his family would need to eat for the next couple of weeks, making sure to keep an eye out for sales and deals. He was pleased that he would be able to stay within his 850 gil limit, though only just.

He was making his way to the checkout counter dragging his three carts when he heard the bell above the store's door that signaled the entrance of another customer. Yazoo paid it no attention, busy trying to keep all his groceries in the cart. He took notice, though, when an unnatural hush fell over the other patrons. The dozen or so other patrons and the cashier had been chatting amiably (or arguing, in the case of one couple standing by the front window). But suddenly, all conversation had ceased.

Yazoo looked up, and saw that the couple had drawn much closer together, and were staring toward the entrance, expressions of horror on their faces.

Yazoo walked slowly toward the end of the shelf that blocked the door from his view, his footsteps completely silent. He reached the end of the shelf, and leaned around the edge.

Suddenly…_CRACK! _A gunshot split the air. Yazoo heard screams from every direction. The couple by the window ducked down, the man's arms wrapped protectively around his wife. Yazoo looked around the edge of the shelf. There was a man there, tall and muscular, wearing tattered clothes standing just inside the store. A gun was clutched in his right hand. It was pointed straight up, and he had clearly just fired it into the ceiling.

As Yazoo watched, the man lowered the gun, leveling it at the cashier, a young woman, trembling and crying behind the register.

He flung a cloth bag at her. "Put the money in the bag. NOW!"

The poor girl's hands were shaking so much, she could hardly hit the numbers on the register.

The man with the gun began to shout, "Hurry up, b—"

"That is enough," Yazoo cut him off, stepping out from behind the self, and walking toward the man. His voice was as pleasant and serene as ever, but there was a certain steel in it—if the holdup man had been a little more perceptive, he would have heard the danger in that tone.

"H…hey! You! Stop moving! Stay where you are!" The man's gun hand was shaking in anger.

Yazoo took no notice of his words, continuing to move forward. "I cannot permit you to speak to the young lady this way."

"Shut up, pretty boy!"

By now, Yazoo was only about three feet from the man. For a moment, the man's eyes darted back and forth between the cashier and Yazoo. Then, deciding Yazoo was the bigger threat, turned the gun on him.

This was just what Yazoo had been waiting for.

Yazoo's right hand darted out too fast for the man to react, and caught him by the wrist. Yazoo swung himself around and slammed into the man, with enough force to drive the air from his lungs and knock him off balance. Then, in a smooth movement too quick for the eye to follow, Yazoo released the man's wrist and brought his right elbow crashing into the man's ribs. The man grunted in pain, and his grip on the gun loosened. Seizing the opportunity, Yazoo's left hand shot up, striking the man viciously on the elbow. The man's arm went up, just as he let go of the gun, making it go flying into the air. In one fluid motion, Yazoo caught the gun in his right hand, and grabbed the man's wrist again in his left. He twisted his arm, pulling him around, and flung him headlong into the checkout counter.

All this happened much too fast for the other patrons to see exactly what had happened. All they saw was the man flung forward, and slammed into the checkout counter. He stumbled to his feet, moaning. He shook his head to clear it, and turned toward Yazoo. Yazoo's serene, unfazed expression threw him over the edge. Even though he was now unarmed, ignoring the fact that Yazoo now had his gun, the man roared in fury, and flung himself at the silver haired man. Yazoo side-stepped his wild charge easily, and the sudden change in his position threw the running man off balance. Just as he was passing the place where Yazoo stood, he stumbled, and Yazoo seized the moment. He brought his arm up, and brought the butt of the gun slamming down on the back of the man's head.

Unconsciousness was immediate. The man collapsed into a heap on the floor.

For a long moment, all was silent and still. Then, Yazoo turned toward the cash register, the slight smile still intact on his face. As he walked up toward the counter, the cashier stared at him, still shaking, with tears flowing down her face. When he reached her, he set the gun gently down in front of her. Then he looked up and said, "I apologize for the mess. May I check out now?"

"Wow, Yazoo, these are great!" Denzel was sitting at the bar, admiring the new pairs of pants Yazoo had bought for him. Yazoo sat at the stove across the counter, stirring the noodles that were to be that night's dinner. Marlene was skipping around the room, trying out her new shoes. Cloud, Tifa, Kadaj, Loz, Elena and Vincent, having returned home from a long day at work, were sitting at various tables around the café, watching contentedly. Shelke walked over to the bar, and asked as she climbed onto a stool, "Yazoo, _how_ could you possibly have gotten the gil for these purchases?"

Yazoo smiled slightly, as the afternoon's events replayed themselves in his mind. Once the shock had worn off slightly, and the would-be robber had been arrested by a group of WRO soldiers (the man had come to with a terrible headache, but nothing more serious), the cashier and the others in the store hadn't been able to thank him enough. The store manager, who had been watching the whole episode from the doorway leading to the storeroom, refused point blank to allow Yazoo to pay his grocery bill, despite his insistence. Not only that, but all the other patrons present in the store began loading him down with other groceries. He had tried to tell them that it wasn't necessary, but they wouldn't hear it. In the end, Yazoo had left the store with enough groceries to feed the family for more than a month, without paying a gil.

Since he still had the grocery money Tifa had given him, he stopped in a clothing store on the way home and picked up some clothes for Denzel and Marlene—clothes which he knew they were in desperate need of.

He hadn't wanted to bother explaining the attempted robbery when he got home (not wanting to sound arrogant), so he simply said, "I ran into some…unexpected bargains. Tifa, I put all the change up on top of your dresser."

"After groceries and clothes, you had _change?"_ Tifa stared at him in amazement.

Shelke was about to push the subject further, when Elena spoke. "I wish I could hang around the house all day, and go shopping whenever I wanted. You sure have it easy, Yazoo."

"Now, that isn't fair," Tifa said indignantly. "Yazoo does help out around here."

"No, no," Yazoo said, smiling slightly. "She's right. In the future, I will try to be of more help to everyone, Elena."

"That's all I ask," Elena said, and took a drink from the hot coffee Yazoo had just handed her.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who has read this far! Please drop a quick review, even if it is only a sentence or two. I want to hear from you!

I apologize for taking so long to post this new chapter; I'll work on getting the next one up faster!

JenovatheCalamity


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